DEAD CROSS

From its inception, expectations were high for Dead Cross, with many left guessing what sort of sound a band featuring Mike Patton on vocals, Dave Lombardo on drums, guitarist Mike Crain and bassist Justin Pearson would have. Their answer was to shake loose the white-knuckled grip of nostalgia that pervades our society and instead tap into the endless potential for uncharted, divine filth. Dead Cross’ debut self-titled LP vacillates from sounding like Godzilla attacking Tokyo to becoming the potential soundtrack of witches catching waves in a hurricane. Its highs are sharp and wicked, its lows ominous and evil, all the while laced with wit and, many times, an element of tongue-in-cheekiness not often found in whatever genre you may want to characterize this band as (Because really, where else would you hear the lyrics, “blow out the candles on the urinal cake” from a “thrash” band?). It is guitar, bass, and drums each acting as engines in a muscle car drag race. Schizophrenic vocals hurl themselves from all angles, Patton using his infamous dynamic range to act as master disorienting ventriloquist. In short, it is foul-mouthed, anti-fascist fun from start to finish.